


Fancy Dress

by Rehfan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehfan/pseuds/Rehfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond has to infiltrate a fancy dress ball and hasn't a thing to wear.</p><p>Fortunately Q has an idea.</p><p>(From a prompt by Salios)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fancy Dress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Salios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salios/gifts).



Q held up the tracker’s memory board with his tweezers. It was crude and quickly created, but they were given no time to devise anything more stealthy that would provide the transmission field that he needed. The only complication was how Bond would get it past security in the embassy. Fortunately, the fete was fancy dress. Bond could hide it on his person in the lining of his costume – and that could look like anything.

“Has Bond decided what he’s going to wear?” Q asked Tanner.

“Not that I’ve been told,” he replied. He nodded at the chip. “Is that it?”

“The main component, yes,” said Q.

“Awfully big, isn’t it?” ventured Tanner.

Q gave him a sour look. “It’s what can be done in the eleventh hour that will suit.”

“Sorry,” said Tanner, “I- I’ll just check to see about Bond.” He turned from Q as he worked to place the board in the casing. “Bond says he thought you’d be handling that,” Tanner said.

Q raised his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. “Christ, that man!” He sighed. “Right then.” He studied the transmitter, considering its dimensions. He looked around. Beyond Tanner was one of Q Branch’s boffins wearing a belt buckle with the Batman symbol on it. Q smirked. Bond would kill him.

He considered the transmitter again. The germ of an idea grew in his head. He said to Tanner: “Get Bond’s clothing measurements and the number to the best fancy dress store in the city. I think I may have an idea.”

“I’ll do that and better,” replied Tanner, “my cousin works in costumes for the BBC.”

Two hours later and MI6 was in possession of Bond’s costume for the evening. Q only hoped the agent wouldn't go on a strop about it. He set everything in his office and went off to R&D to check on the progress of the final piece of the costume. It was essential that the item be able to obfuscate the transmitter housed within. Bond would be stopped at security, without a doubt. He would then be wanded and the item inspected. It had to be well hidden.

Bond arrived and Tanner guided him toward Q’s office, informing him of where he went. Bond took one look at the pile of clothing and muttered: “Of all the things to have me wear…” Tanner gave Bond a shrug and a smile and closed the door, allowing Bond privacy to change.

Tanner guided Q to his office once he had returned with the finishing touch that held the transmitter, telling him that Bond was dressing inside. His mind on the job, Q wondered if the unit should be checked in MI6’s security to see if the obfuscation provided by the lead lining was enough to block the transmitter’s presence. “Well, Q? What do you think?”

Q nearly dropped the transmitter.

Clearly, having connections at the costume department at the BBC was very advantageous: even Bond’s boots were worn and seemed a bit dusty. Tight leather chaps curved around Bond’s inner thighs. A fake six-gun was in the holster of his gun belt which dangled tantalizingly from one hip. As Bond turned, arms outstretched, Q felt his mouth go dry as he watched the play of the brown hand-spun trousers that caressed the man’s arse. His white hand-spun shirt was tucked neatly into them and, as Bond continued to turn, he developed a new appreciation for the condition that the agent kept his body in.

“Good lord,” Q whispered.

“What?” asked Bond.

Q cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “G- good, Bond,” he said. “It looks almost perfect.”

Bond was nothing if not perceptive. He narrowed his eyes and hid a smile. Lowering his arms he asked Q: “What do you think? Up or down?”

“What?” asked Q.

“The sleeves,” clarified Bond. “Up or down?”

“Whichever is comfortable,” Q said with a wave of his hand.

“I think up,” said Bond, rolling up one sleeve. “Question is: how high?” he mused.

“Does it really matter?” asked Q, watching Bond slowly reveal one muscular forearm and then the other.

“Depends on what the job requires,” said Bond, stepping toward Q slowly with every new sentence. “And besides, I don’t know what the job will entail yet. I have no idea what I may run into. I need to be prepared for any contingency.” He was practically nose to nose with his quartermaster. “What’s that?” he asked, noticing the object in his hands.

“What?” asked Q. “Oh… this. Yes. Right.” Q cleared his throat. “This is the transmitter you will need to plant on the box.”

“It looks like a belt buckle,” said Bond.

“Your powers of observation are as astute as ever, 007,” said Q.

“Thank you, Q,” said Bond with a smirk. “I expect the transmitter is hidden inside of it.”

“Exactly,” said Q. He demonstrated how to open the casing. “You will no doubt be inspected at security as the buckle has a lead lining to it, but I think we’ve done a clever enough job of concealing the transmitter itself. It should pass muster.”

“Do you want to do the honors?” asked Bond. Q visibly fumbled with the buckle and Bond chuckled low.

Q narrowed his eyes. “Stop that.”

“What?”

“You’re enjoying yourself.”

“What? No!”

“Yes you are. And it’s hateful. Stop it. Just because you’ve got those eyes and the smile and those broad shoulders…”

“You like my eyes, Q?”

“Shut up, Bond.”

Bond smiled and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Q’s mouth. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Q.”

Q forgot how to breathe. He cleared his throat again and adjusted his glasses. “Yes… well. You’re welcome. I think.”

“So are you going to attach that? Or shall I?” asked Bond. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to break it before it got to play its role.”

“I think it would be best if you did it, 007,” said Q, blushing crimson.

“Afraid you might botch the job?” asked Bond.

Q gave him a sour look and held up the buckle. “Stop.”

“You’re no fun, Q,” said Bond, taking the buckle from him.

“That’s your opinion,” said Q teasingly and he turned to the door.

Bond pulled him back by an elbow and turned him, bringing them close together. With a hand on Q’s hip, he said: “Now you’re the one who’s enjoying himself.”

Q smiled at him playfully and kissed the tip of his nose. “I’ll never tell.” He withdrew his arm and walked out of the room.


End file.
